Meadow

Solomon

Solomon had wandered away from home with no particular purpose in mind. Summer stretched lazily over the land, leaving heavy stillness in the lack of air movement over Tinuvel. Fairly certain that the mothers of his children were safe where they were, he sought to sate his innate desire to travel.

These common grounds have rewarded him for his wandering nature more often than not, and it's been a long time since he's been able to take advantage of the bountiful offerings provided by the Isles. Solomon had long since dried off, the sun having done its job somewhere at the bottom of the Peak territory, before he entered the Crossing proper. Absently he looked toward the Commons, but decided against heading there. He planned to seek out others to join his herd in the future, but a pleasant sort of lull had settled over the Cove.

The lean tobiano paced along, casually looking over the various groups of equines with mild interest. It seemed as though the land was ever so slowly beginning to recover from the recent disappearances. When he had first passed through these lands after losing Quinn and the others it had been a veritable ghost town. But as was the nature of these Lost Isles, more new arrivals kept coming in to replace those that had been lost.

A movement up ahead shortens his steps and he pauses to watch the tableau unfold. A small, very angry mare sloshes free of the heavy grip of the waves. There are hints of roaning to her coat, barely visible beneath the dark hue unleashed by the water. She reminds him of Bjorn in a way, from her stature and mass amounts of hair. To be honest, he is not surprised to see her struggle with the water. The wide ocean is turbulent this late in the season, with tropical storms gathering along the more southern shores. Solomon does not envy whatever swim she has made here, whether from these Isles or somewhere far beyond, but finds himself curious as to what makes her so angry.

For her fury and sorry are evident all across her body, from the pinned ears to the angry raking of her fur. It's a gamble to approach her, as there is certainly no guarantee of a pleasant conversation, but he risks it anyway. A nicker flares his charcoal nostrils as he approaches sedately, attempting to give her time to adjust to his arrival before simply popping into her space. As he grows closer, the tear tracks become evident and his curiosity deepens. What had happened to her?

"Careful, or you'll tear a hole through your skin." He says it lightly, no judgment in his tone. His hooves still slightly farther away than one would customarily stand for conversation, but he is not entirely sure she won't lunge at him for intruding on her moment. "The Falls has a waterfall that might do more for the salt on your coat. I'd offer the one in the Cove, but you look like you've had your fill of swimming for a while."

The mild attempt to humor gives rise to a small smirk on his lips and he settles, tipping a hind hoof to rest. "I'm Solomon."

Unabashedly, he does not hide his study of her face, wanting to know her reaction before he offered anything further. It is not often that Solomon is chased from conversations, given his general size and temper, but if there was anyone to do so, he imagines it would be this soaking wet and seethingly angry mare.

OOC: I realized after I wrote it that I fast-forwarded it to summer, sorry about that! If you want me to change it I can!

Dutch Harness Horse Mutt | Champagne Grullo Tobiano Stallion | 17 Hands | The Cove